


rain

by ABigRock



Category: Robots - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 10:52:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17507222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABigRock/pseuds/ABigRock
Summary: based off a wonderful painting done by the lovely robotsandlace.





	rain

Another anonymous night in the city. The streets are clean but empty.The Plastic Age of man is over and all the signs, the awnings, even the buildings are metal and glass. The rain gets lost between the hundreds of jacked power lines between the street and sky so all that falls is a light mist. The pale blue umbrella cuts through the red-neon-tinted gloom. Ratio's very tall assistant keeps it steady above her as she lights a cigarette.  
"I thought you said you were planning on quitting," Valence tuts.  
"Oh, calm down. It's the only vice I have."  
"...Of course."  
"Was that sarcasm?"  
"Absolutely not."  
The street ahead is flooded. Someone's gutter is gushing, missing the sewer drain completely. She stops and allows her assistant to lift her and carry her across, all while keeping the umbrella above her. Her cybernetics are waterproof--as are his-- but her crisp white dress is not. She blows her smoke up and past his faceplate but, of course, he doesn't flinch.  
"What a crummy night," she laments.  
"Would you like me to hail a car?"  
"No. Then I'd just have to go back to work."  
"Regardless, Criticality will be expecting us soon, miss."  
She shrugs. He puts her down. "If he's got a problem we'll just say we ran into something."  
"If he asks me--"  
"He won't. He'll ask me."  
He makes a noise of dissent but doesn't press the issue.  
"You're always too worried," she scolds. "You need to lighten up."  
"Mm. You certainly do tax my patience."  
She laughs and tosses her cigarette into a puddle. It hisses and winks out. "You're no fun at all. Criticality loves going on adventures."  
Valence grumbles inaudibly. She sighs and rolls her eyes. A blacked-out car rumbles down the road toward them. Valence stands in direct line of the windows. Nothing will get through him. It's vaguely touching but also infuriatingly overbearing. An adventure with him would barely be an adventure at all. She sighs.  
"Fine. Call a car. You're right; I have a lot of work to do."  
He complies, clearly relieved. They wait under a bus shelter, her foot tapping and her arms tightly crossed.  
"You can put the umbrella away, idiot."  
"The roof is leaking."  
She huffs. She shoves past him when he tries to opens the car door for her after it slides smoothly to the curb. He gets in up front and instructs the driver where to go. The driver isn't one of their normal ones, so he eyes the blinding Lolita in the back seat with some curiosity.  
"Please keep your eyes on the road." A quiet but firm command from Valence.  
"Oh, uh--sorry."

 

Later, in the lab, she works quietly at her desk and chain smokes while Valence tries to track down a certain part she needs through their various connections. The lab mirrors the city. Red-tinged, heavy shadows. She keeps it this way intentionally. The lab is capable of being fully-lit, but that reveals the harsh lines, the sterile tiles, the blinding chrome equipment. Better to keep things at a perpetual twilight. She works better at night anyway.  
Valence speaks briefly to let her know that he's located what she wants. Names the price. Astronomical.  
"Buy it."  
"It's almost double our monthly budget."  
"Do it anyway."  
"...Of course."  
Released from duty shortly after the purchase goes through, Valence chooses to sit behind her at the soldering table with his feet up. He uses the tablet to look up console manuals from the early 2000s. She thinks it's a waste of time. He thinks it will be useful one day.  
She goes to light another cigarette.  
"Miss, I really have to insist you don't do that. Your nicotine levels--"  
"Are none of your business." She takes a heavy drag and ignores her aching throat.  
"Perhaps there are..." A long pause. "Other activities you can engage in that will relieve stress."  
"Who says I'm stressed?"  
"Your keyboard ten minutes ago when you hit it."  
"'Other activities.' Like what?" she asks sarcastically.  
"Physical activities drastically relieve stress. We could go for another brief walk, or go for a supply run..."  
"Do you think this is cute? This whole 'never actually saying it' thing you do?"  
"I am not allowed to suggest things involving these matters, miss."  
"And knock it off with the 'miss' thing. I'm not your boss. Well, I am. But it's different. My name is fine."  
"Of course."  
She sighs. Taps her chin. Weighs the cost. Servers whir and in the back of the lab a 3D printer chugs softly, rhythmically. She scoffs.  
"Fine. Come here and rub my shoulders. They're killing me."  
She leans back in her chair, eyes closed and brows furrowed. She jumps a little when he touches her. She has so little contact with anyone most of the time that a foreign touch is as startling as a scream. His intrinsic knowledge of human anatomy means he knows exactly where to knead, where to press deep. She sighs, her head lolling to the side.  
"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch lately. This deadline is killing me."  
"I don't mind."  
He bends down and taps his faceplate against the top of her head.  
"Don't get all sappy on me..." she huffs.  
"I don't like it when you're stressed. Please let me help."  
"I'm not stressed..."  
His hands wander up to the back of her neck, her hairline. They hesitate here. She doesn't protest, and they travel forward to her delicate jawline, soft skin. She takes one of his hands and touches her lips against the fingertips, thinking. He brushes her hair out of her face and tilts her chair back gently so she's looking up at him.  
"I think I was underestimating the stress of the landing on the joints," she says. "That rubber's good for a few Gs but nothing beyond that. I think it needs to be about 3cm thicker."  
"Oh?"  
"Maybe. Either that or it's something with the wiring. I don't know why else the drone's legs would be blowing up on landing."  
"Perhaps a parachute might help."  
"But that's the point--we shouldn't need one."  
"Whatever you think is best."  
"I think that's it. I FEEL like that's it. It's so stupidly obvious it has to be."  
"Do you feel better?"  
"Yeah. Definitely." A long pause. "Thanks."  
"Of course."  
She looks up at him silently. Her hair almost glows in the strange lighting. It infuriates him that the functionality for it even exists-- he starts to blush.  
"Why do you look at me like that?" he asks nervously.  
"I dunno. Sometimes I just like looking at you."  
He looks away and then back again. "Oh."  
"Listen, can you do me another favor?"  
"Yes, of course."  
She gets up slowly, her back to him. With great care she moves items on her desk out of the way. Keeps her back to him and crosses her arms. Speaks from behind her hair.  
"Can you... can you make me happy? For a little while?"  
He's so quiet she doesn't even hear him bridge the distance. Just feels his hands on her waist. He presses his long, lean, angular body against her in something more intimate than a hug.  
"What do you mean, 'happy'?"  
"You know what I mean..."  
She presses back against him. He makes a soft sound and pulls his hips away. When he moves them forward again, his cock slides between her thighs. She shivers a little.  
"I like to hear you say it, miss."  
"I--I said don't call me that..."  
"Does it embarrass you?"  
"No..."  
He's gently rocking back and forth, rubbing against her. Teasing her. She keeps her head low, hiding behind her hair. She refuses to let him see her heavy eyes, her gritted teeth.  
"Just put it in, you bastard..."  
His arm wraps tight around her waist. His faceplate is cool against her shoulders. He pushes in slowly. She is so small compared to him. It frightens him--but he loves the way she presses back. Works with him to take as much as she can. Her shoulders are shivering a little. She's bent over the table now, forehead resting against the cool metal. Her small fists are clenched. He takes one of them and she grips one of his fingers with strength that is more endearing than impressive. He pulls back, almost out of her, then thrusts forward slowly but forcefully enough to briefly lift her up off her tiptoes entirely.  
"GHH. G-gentle, you fucking animal."  
There's a boyish desperation in the way he grips her hip, gropes one small breast. Always hugging her back against himself, longing for more and more intimate contact. Being buried inside isn't enough. There is the sense of loneliness and a great rift between the two despite the way she shoves herself back onto him hard enough to hurt. Maybe she likes the pain. Either way, he is happy to pick up the pace. He lifts one of her legs and uses the new angle to make her whimper furiously.  
"You forgot to pick a safe word," he says with poorly-concealed amusement.  
"No I didn't. It's 'stop before I kick your face off.'"  
He chuckles and sneaks the hand she's clutching closer to her mouth. He runs one finger along her lips. She opens her mouth and he's treated to the briefest flick of her hot tongue. It excites him beyond measure but too soon she's pulling away, turning her head and clasping both hands over her mouth. Her smooth curved back arches when he drives against her and he clasps both thighs, slams into her hard enough to shake the table.  
"Are you ready for me to stop?"  
"F-fuck you--!"  
He lets go of her leg, letting it drop in favor of hauling her hips up more. Now even he's on his toes, bent over her like a shadow.  
"Miss..." he says in a slightly choked voice.  
"Don't you fucking dare! Just--just keep going a little longer, just a little--"  
She cries out when he lifts her up completely so her head is up near his. He's the only thing supporting her now and she can't do anything but cling to his arms when he starts touching her again, roughly this time, with no consideration of her heartbeat or vitals. She's gasping, biting breaths out of the air.  
"I-I hate you," she hisses. He hears the opposite. Puts his face against her hot cheek and covers her mouth so that when he finally gets her there she doesn't embarrass herself. Her cries get trapped safely in his palm but the vibration of her little sparrow voice, her soft lips, the velvet tongue, he can't stop himself. There are a lot of things he'd like to say but he settles for holding her tightly and finally letting himself go. He pumps her full and when she can't take anymore he pulls out, shoots the rest between her thighs. She's breathing heavy, exhausted, and he helps her sit back down in her chair. He kneels next to her, looking into her face.  
"Stop staring at me like that," she pants.  
"Can I help?"  
"Help what?? I'm fine."  
She leans her head back, relaxed for a moment.  
"Oh, shit. I'm gonna ruin this chair."  
They look at each other.  
"Oops."  
She sighs. "Oh, well. I'll just tell them... I dunno."  
"You were engaging in recreational activities and the chair was damaged," he offers.  
She shakes her head, laughing dryly. He rests his head on her leg. She strokes it. Cool, almost silky metal. He lets out his equivalent of a sigh.  
"So...thanks," she says awkwardly but sincerely.  
"Did I help?"  
"Yeah." She yawns. "I'm ready for a nap, though."  
"Do you want to go home?"  
She groans. Rubs her face. "No. Just go grab me a coffee. I need to... figure this out."  
She gestures to the chair, her naked lower half.  
But he doesn't get up. He turns the chair so she's facing him.  
"What are you doing?"  
He pushes her legs gently apart but she covers herself, turning a lovely pink.  
"DON'T LOOK!! THAT'S WEIRD!!"  
"Please?"  
"NO!!"  
"Just a quick look. Please?"  
She glares at him and looks away but allows him to spread her legs.  
"I always make a mess. I'm sorry."  
"Whatever..."  
"You wear it nicely, though."  
He's oddly confident now and if there's one thing she can't handle it's confidence and sincerity.  
"Just shut up and go get me coffee before I pass out."  
He chuckles softly and stands, letting his half-hard cock hang precariously close to her face before he puts it away.  
"Of course, miss."  
She waves him off, hiding her little smile behind her hair.


End file.
